


Naughty Salt

by terryreviews



Category: Bright Young Things, Fright Night (2011), Laws of Attraction (2004)
Genre: Confusion, First Meetings, Gen, Recreational Drug Use, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: Peter never knew Thorne had a twin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Naughty Salt

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I never know exactly how to tag my works so I tagged it the best I could. If anyone has any suggested tags let me know? This MAY turn into another story but as I have no real frame work to put all three of these guys on atm, for now I only have this. I still am working on two Vincturi-verses and writing a sequel to Caelan for Christmas so...we'll see.
> 
> Thank you for always being awesome, supportive/kind, peeps.

Peter sat up with a shout, smacking at his arm, at the warm, furry thing that tickled him.

Whatever it was slipped off his body onto the floor next to him. His eyes began to clear, searching frantically around, until they settled on a lump of white fur.

Stupid fingers twitching, he cautiously reached out and touched it. Not alive. Good. He picked it up and held it out. His alcohol soaked, aching, brain took a moment to process what it was. Even longer to supply a word for it. Shawl. An old-fashioned, fur, shawl.

Where the hell had it come from?

“ oh! ” he heard nearby, “ you’re awake! Good morning, darling. ”

The voice was airy, excitable, male, with a posh English accent.

Peter snapped his head in the direction of the voice.

“ what the fuck? "He mumbled.

Thorne’s traditionally spiked hair was now this odd style with all his bangs curled and brushed over to one side. And it was brown instead of black. His lips were painted a dark red and he had some bluish eye shadow on. His cheeks had a touch of foundation with a hint of glitter and he was clean-shaven.

His clothing was also odd. Off-white pants, off white button-up, an old fashioned waistcoat in a mustard color. All stylish and classy and definitely not the Thorne that Peter knew.

” here you are, “ this parallel universe Thorne pushed a glass of water into Peter’s hand, and picked up his other hand, dropping a few pills into the palm, "you’ll be right as rain soon.”

Peter felt his jaw drop and watched as Thorne went into the direction of the kitchen.

“I hope that you don’t mind that I’ve been puttering around in your kitchen. I’m Brewing some coffee. When it is ready I’ll pour you a cup. ” he called as he went, leaving Peter to sit alone on the floor.

For a while, that’s all he did. Sit on the floor. Feeling the chill of the cranked up A/C running through the place and his drawn out body. Feeling weak and tired. He tried to put together what happened last night as he shoved the pills down his throat and drained the water with a wince.

He remembered coming home with Thorne, that much he knew was fact. He and Thorne had met up after a gig. They went back to Peter’s place. After they’d already hit up the bar, scoping out prospects, until they realized that they could be each other’s prospects.

Well, he still had his pants and he woke up alone on the floor so…that didn’t happen. 

He vaguely remembered that the two of them had been drinking, smoking, catching up, and maybe they’d taken some drugs, more alcohol. It was there, at the tip of his memory. Something else. 

With a low grunt, he stood up, clutching at the couch for balance. A bit dizzy. He’d get over it. Always did.

On wobbly legs he went to the bathroom for a piss. He pissed, washed his hands, splashed water on his face, and decided to head to the kitchen for answers.

The scent of coffee hit him hard as he entered the room and there was Twilight Zone Thorne pouring three cups of coffee.

Peter raised an eyebrow and decided to just play it cool. He went to Thorne’s side and leaned his hip against the counter.

“Ah! Coffee is ready. I wasn’t sure how you took it or I would have brought it to you. I hope you don’t mind, I raided your cabinets and fridge. I found sugar, no cream.”

“You know I don’t put cream in my coffee,” Peter eyed Thorne as he moved to snag one of the mugs and start scooping sugar into it, “what’s with you this morning?”

Thorne did a sort of offended shimmy of his shoulders, “what do you mean? Wrong with me? I have done nothing but play mother since you woke up. And how I was I to know how you took your coffee? This is my first time being here.”

Peter said nothing as he stirred his drink, side eyeing his friend.

“What?” Thorne said with a huff.

“This is just a very weird joke you’re playing.”

“What joke?”

Peter took a sip from his drink and adjusted himself to lean his butt against the counter, “all that,” he nodded his head over all of Thorne’s new outfit, “where the hell did you even get those clothes.”

Thorne’s jaw dropped a fraction, “I bought them in a very expensive boutique in France thank you very much! My you are very grumpy in the morning aren’t you!”

“Okay, you know, this joke’s gone far enough,” Peter said, nearly losing his temper but his head hurt too much for that.

Thorne flapped his arm against his side and snatched his own mug from the counter, “what joke? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” He took a sip of his coffee and pulled a face, “oh, you have milk don’t you? I suppose that’ll do.”

“Thorne, seriously,” Peter began when Thorne cut him off.

“Is that where the confusion lies? Oh, you silly thing. Must’ve had too much naughty salt.” He opened the fridge and searched for the milk, “among other things,” he mumbled as he snatched the carton, shutting the door and going back to his coffee. “you’re just confused. I’m not Thorne.”

“What?” Peter scoffed.

“Really now,” he poured a splash of milk into his drink, “I think I should be offended. Drugs or no, how could you forget me?” He made a gesture over his face and stirred the milk in.

“I’m impressed. This is the longest you’ve gone for a joke. The last time I was fucked up, you just drew on my face. This,” he waved a hand over Thorne, “at least shows you haven’t killed all your brain cells.”

“I’m Miles! Remember? Thorne invited me over last night, I needed a place to stay. You said it was alright.”

“Yeah, okay, I think I’d remember inviting a stranger into…” 

“What’s going on, why’s everyone so loud?” Thorne, messy black hair said in just his tank top as he scratched his belly and padded over to where they were at the counter, saying nothing as he grabbed the only available cup and downed it’s contents in a few solid gulps. “Ahhhh, fuck my head hurts,” he caught Peter’s eye, “what’s wrong with you?”

“How the fuck are there two of you?” 

Thorne looked at Miles, baffled.

“Don’t look at me, apparently young Mr. Vincent can’t handle his drugs. Seems to have a spot of amnesia where I am concerned.”

Thorne, real Thorne, turned to Peter, “Pete, this is Miles. My twin brother. He met up with me here in Vegas, or was suppose to, and things happened, I asked if he could come over when you let me stay the night.”

Peter blinked, “I…I don’t remember. I didn’t know you had a twin brother.”

“Yeah, estranged. Got separated when we were kids. Went to different families. Decided to meet up again. Been hanging out on and off for over a year. Don’t need to go into it.” Thorne made it clear that he was not up for questions, at least not until a third cup of coffee and a shower.

They heard a small noise and Miles chimed in, “well, that was…dramatic,” Miles said, “no hard feelings Mr. Vincent. I suppose we all had an eventful evening. Made some of us a bit forgetful. Ah, Thorne, there are pain killers right there.”

Peter was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Thorne had a twin that, apparently he had met last night but couldn’t remember, and…

“Hey, where were you sleeping asshole?” he nudged Thorne’s arm.

“In the bed, where else?”

“So you left me on the floor?”

Thorne shrugged, “dude, not my fault you were too fucked up to walk to the bedroom and join me. Besides, what about that time in England in the hotel room when I woke up in the tub? Hm.”

Peter wanted to say something but growled instead and sipped at his coffee instead.

“That’s what I thought,” Thorne smirked and gave him a playful nudge.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Miles said, “but as you didn’t have much to eat in here, I ordered room service.”

Almost like perfect timing, the speaker went off,

“Mr. Vincent, you have a food delivery.”

Needless to say, it was a very strange morning for Peter as they all crowded around breakfast and he watched Thorne and his twin, side by side, set up their plates and eat.


End file.
